


gifts

by ninasfireescape (sharkgriffin)



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Canon Addition, F/F, Lesbian Character, One Night Stands, One Shot, The abduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkgriffin/pseuds/ninasfireescape
Summary: Hélène has a gift and she intends to use that gift to keep Marya distracted enough that she won't notice her goddaughter missing. However, Marya has some gifts of her own.Explaining what actually happened between Hélène and Marya during the Abduction.





	gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, this is my first thing I've written for Great Comet. I'm reading War and Peace at the same time so I've added a few details from the book but just a quick note that I know in the book Marya is much older than Hélène and likely widowed but I've chosen to portray her as the younger version who I assume to have not married from the musical. I hope you enjoy

Hélène had a gift. She was a gifted woman and she had many talents as was expected of the noble Russian lady, but there was a certain charm she had. She could make the most strong-willed of people fall at her feet and swear their lives to her, sometimes without her even wishing to have this effect. It was the practicality of this gift that brought her to the doorstep of Marya Dmitrievna – the dreaded dragon – one cold January night.

It was part of her brother’s plan to elope with that young girl, Natasha, that had filled him with such excitement these last few days. He knew his sister’s dedication to him and that she would do anything for his happiness and he needed her for his plan to function properly. Hélène did not entirely approve of what Anatole aimed to do but it was not as if she could go against him just as he would never dare go against her. And Natasha was so young; it was a tragedy really that she ought to be married off to this man who was not even present at that moment, even if she had convinced herself she loved him. For a girl in love, she certainly had broken off the marriage quickly for the arrival of a new man.

However, it was certain that Anatole could not carry out his plan without Hélène. She had heard the Moscow ladies found him handsome and it was true he had charm though not on the same level as her charm. After all, it had been she who had persuaded the young Countess to attend the ball at her house and now she would distract Marya while her goddaughter ran away from her.

“Countess Bezukhova!” Marya boomed as she flung open the great doors to her home. The skirts of her red robes, adorned with gemstones, swished inches above the snow. She embraced Hélène out of courtesy and the women exchanged kisses on each cheek. She had known she would be there with the letter Hélène sent in advance, requesting they caught up with each other, only having briefly met at the opera.

“Oh, you must call me Hélène.”

“Delighted to have you here,” she said with overenthusiasm. Hélène had heard what she said about her at the opera when she thought she had left; that she was a woman Natasha and that pretty cousin of hers should stay far away from. Perhaps she did believe that, though it was still a wonder Marya could display this extreme gratitude to see her.

Marya’s footman took her cloak from her and she basked in the warmth of Marya’s grand home. It was awfully large for an woman who lived alone but she did have guests visiting all year round and Marya Dmitrievna was a person you could associate with grandness.

A servant brought them tea in the drawing room. They sat back together and talked of all that was popular in Moscow; music, fashion, art.

“Of course, now our beloved city is attracting all these new waves of rich, young people with no sense of responsibility.” Clear disdain was etched on her face and she eyed Hélène. “They come here to drink wildly or to have their affairs or to gamble; causing destruction either way, then run back crying to the safety of their money and families. Of course, you know I have some family friends staying with me. Two young girls and while they have been raised well and are most of the time well-behaved, they can be a handful. They have their hearts set on romance and it can drive them over the edge.”

Hélène looked down at the red carpet, rather than looking at Marya, worried she would somehow give away that she knew just how far over the edge Natasha would be driven to that all-seeing stare.

“Of course, you came to visit my Natasha a few days ago. And you met the pair of them at the opera. I thought it was a remarkable performance.”

“Yes, Semenova is a phenomenal actress,” Hélène said, glad to have escaped from a topic that may have revealed her guilt. “And her voice, so powerful and emotional.”

“Indeed. Moscow, with all the faults of our modern society does still boast very fine singers. I heard you had Mademoiselle George to sing at your ball. Another talented performer and a very attractive woman.”

Two more servants returned to the room; a maid and the same footman. The maid had glasses for them and a full bottle of wine, such a pure red that matched everything else in this little room. Two glasses were filled to the brim and Marya whispered something to the footman.

“Leave us, both of you.” She said to them in her usual loud voice. “Now,” she said, turning her gaze back upon Hélène. “I propose a toast. To Moscow, in all its glory in the past, present and future.”

Both took sips from their glasses. The wine was strong and rich but nothing Hélène could not handle.

“Now, let’s be open with each other. Hélène, we both know you are not here to talk to me about culture. I know your true intentions in my house.”

Hélène tried not to look surprised nor afraid. Had the plan failed and would Anatole be caught in the middle of his scheme?

“I have heard the rumors about you. All talk of your…affairs with many men. And—”

“Yes, those rumors of the scandal between my brother and me. I can assure you there is nothing to that rumor.”

“Well, of course I don’t believe it. It’s as I said, the new people living here, all with such foul imaginations and all such gossips. No, I think you are cleverer than that and would not have everyone know of your passions. In certain circles I am a part of, I heard that you have had female lovers.” She whispered this last part, as if her servants may be listening at the door.

“Marya?” Hélène asked, at a loss for words.

“Naturally you would have realized about me being like you. It has not been easy. A woman of my age with no husband and yet I have managed to pass myself off as independent and traditional; a woman who does not need to marry. Yet, I have felt what has been happening between us at each of our brief meetings and that we have a certain tension with each other. You understand some of my struggle, being a woman in a similar situation and I do long for affection sometimes.” Her hand slipped onto Hélène’s chair and came to rest upon her knee.

So, it was as Hélène had predicted and Marya Dmitrievna was attracted to women only. However, the rest of the encounter was not going as she had predicted. Hélène had thought she would need to do all of the charming or even flirting, but only subtly, enough to keep her distracted for a few hours. But here Marya was, openly addressing one of the things they had in common and though her language was euphemistic, it was still suggestive and her tone of voice flirtatious.

 Marya sighed and let her hand slide up to stroke Hélène ‘s cheek. She fiddled with a stray dark curl from the bun in which Hélène kept her hair and then rose to her feet. She stood over her, looking down at her. “You must understand, if I have shown any coldness or disapproval to you, it was merely to maintain public views or even to deny myself what I was feeling, and I know you can feel it too. And it is as they say; you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”

 Hélène considered. The plan was working out far better than she ever could have imagined. If she were to consent to an encounter of this kind with Marya, she would certainly be distracted for long enough for Anatole to steal Natasha away. It had been a while since Hélène had been with anyone. It was unfair that Anatole should be the sibling to have all the fun, as he would with his soon-to-be bride.

She nodded, beckoned Marya towards her. The woman positioned herself in her lap and furiously pulled at clips in her hair which sent her elaborate hairstyle into disarray. Dark red waves fell down in all directions, making her face younger and sharper; more striking. Marya unlaced Hélène‘s corset under her dress with surprising ease, adjusted herself into a more comfortable position sitting between Hélène’s legs, bringing their faces closer together.

They became a blur of scarlet velvet and green lace, tangled together. Red lipstick smudged all across Hélène’s own lips, whispers in her ears, sighs loud enough that even if the servants had been on the uppermost floor of the house, they still would have heard. It did not matter. Hélène had never found anyone as domineering and powerful as Marya, always having to be the one to guide the shy girls out of their shells and while that was enjoyable in its own right, it was good to let someone else take the lead in this encounter. She let herself lie back on the chair and Marya’s mouth find the pulse in her neck.

 

* * *

 

A deep cry caused Hélène to stir. She could not recall falling asleep and did not think she actually had. Rather, she had faded into a blissful trance, this transition catalyzed by a mixture of pleasure, exhaustion and that strong wine which she had helped herself to several glasses of.

“YOU WILL NOT ENTER MY HOUSE, SCOUNDREL!” Marya could be heard bellowing. Hélène jolted upright. A quilt had been draped over her but it fell away now, showing her in her undressed state with both straps of her dress off and her bodice pulled down low on one side and she hastened to pull the blanket back up.

Wrapping it around her torso, she raced to the door and tried the ornamental handle but it did not budge. She was locked in. She did not have to wait long for Marya soon returned, now in a red shawl with her hair pinned back up and her makeup back in order. Her face was creased, her eyes ablaze as she strode towards Hélène, causing her to back away.

“You have to leave. Go through the backdoor.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I knew exactly what you were up to from the moment you arrived. I got the truth out of Sonya earlier today. Of course, your scoundrel of a brother deserved some sort of a punishment, so I had to catch him and couldn’t let you go and warn him. It was very easy to keep you out of the way and we both got some enjoyment out of it.”

This meant Marya had tricked her; she had beaten her at her own game by instead distracting Hélène from telling Anatole to call off the elopement.

“Don’t worry, he escaped,” she said, calmly. “But I expect you’ll find him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with my goddaughter. Leave. Get out of my sight and don't come back unless you can be of any help!” She thrust Hélène’s skirt at her which she carried in her arms and pointed to the open door. Hélène scurried away, half-dressed and a mess, her hair wild.

A servant stood by the back porch where Anatole would have almost been caught minutes earlier. Her head was cast to the ground as she handed Hélène her cloak and enfolded her in its warmth. She could hear Marya storming up the stairs and yelling insults at Natasha.

She ventured out into the snow, shivering and obscuring her dirty face with her hood. As she passed through the courtyard, she found herself filled with guilt. Though the elopement had not been her plan, she had been involved and had done little to persuade Anatole it was a bad idea. Perhaps it had been Marya who had instilled her with this guilt. It would seem to others she had gotten away with it easily. As one of the conspirators, Marya had not kept her locked in the house to be punished as she said she would have with the others involved in the elopement. But for Hélène, seeing Marya even angry like that with her was just as bad. She was affected by it which was strange. Perhaps it was the sadness from such intimate experience being turned on its head so quickly, or perhaps Marya had been right about the attraction between them.

She would go home and she would make things right to the best of her ability. She could find Anatole and stop him fleeing, maybe help him understand the error of his ways to some extent. 

Hélène looked back over her shoulder. Curtains were pulled in every window of the house except for one close to the roof. There stood Marya, like a statue, her face illuminated by candlelight, a solemn presence. That woman had outsmarted Hélène. Hélène was not the only one with a gift.

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a bit of a mess but I'm hoping to do a few more in future. I hope people enjoyed so please leave a comment or you can find me on tumblr @ninasfireescape


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